


Painting Flowers

by LavellanPavus (electricmindart)



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, OT4, Pushing Daisies AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-08 21:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5514713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricmindart/pseuds/LavellanPavus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very late gift for noellethepastelhobbit.tumblr.com aka Noelle</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painting Flowers

When Andy passed, everyone in the band took it hard. He was staying late at a gym in the city they were in on the last leg of the tour and was trying to test what truly was his limit. He had started lifting a little too much weight too fast in such a small amount of time; it took a few seconds for him to pass out then and there. When people found his body the next morning, they found no pulse. The rest of the Fall Out Boy tour was cancelled and the remaining three were left to grieve over the events.

 

As the news of Andy’s death spread, no one noticed how Joe was grower paler, weaker, thinner, and sicker. His lungs were faltering, his eyes were a more greyish periwinkle than the vibrant baby blues they were, coughing fits and blood sputtered from his mouth often. Occasionally it would be easy to pick out where Joe had sat from the scarlet speckles on the seat. It was no more than two days after Andy’s body came back that Joe had died. In his sleep, his lungs failed and friends found him with a pool of blood flowing from his lips. The band, now but two members, stopped work on their new album to once again grieve.

 

It took a few more days after Joe’s death, but it was brought to attention that Pete was not at all acting like he usually would. He wasn’t goofy, he wasn’t joking to try and lift the mood. Instead, insomnia kicked his ass and the few nights he slept were the night nightmares about his friends dying plagued him. In interviews, he never smiled anymore and often mourned publicly. One night he was found in his bed with an empty bottle of beer and half of a pill bottle empty. Patrick, on his own, took funeral arrangements seriously. Everything would be so scary to him.

 

The day of the funeral – the three of them were to be buried together. Patrick was the only one there before services were open; he wanted to pay respects to his three significant others prior to everyone else. At Andy’s casket, he peered in – the man was dressed in a suit, his beard and hair pampered nicely to look presentable for everyone.

 

Patrick sighed softly; a frown was permanently etched on his face recently with the strange set of deaths recently. He spotted a few roses in a vase nearby that were faded and drooping and frowned. Andy didn’t deserve dead roses at his wake. They should be gone. So, taking matters into his own hands, Patrick decided to pick up the dead flowers. To his surprise, he noticed they didn’t look dead anymore in his grasp. They bloomed, full of life with vibrant and luscious colour. Like nothing ever happened. It was a miracle – an incredible, beautiful miracle.

 

Alas, when touched again, the flowers faded, drooped, wrinkled, and died. They looked exactly as they did seconds prior to the first touch. Patrick’s mind was racing with how this could happen, attempting to bring them back to no avail. There was no explanation to what had just been seen other than a miracle or a hallucination.

 

“What the fuck…” He mumbled, blinking rapidly and dropping the dead roses. This wasn’t possible. No way. Turning around, he wanted to see if it was real. “What else could I-“ His eyes fell upon his deceased lover’s coffin. “-oh…” He breathed out a deep breath he didn’t know he took.

 

Patrick walked over, trembling slightly. He was scared he would get his hopes up and this would be a dream. Like everything in this reality would be pulled from under him to reveal the set behind the camera – his ceiling before coming to the wake in misery.

 

Taking a few moments standing in front of Andy’s coffin, he leaned over and caressed his cold cheek. The colour came back to his hands and face, his lungs filled with air, his grey-green eyes opened as if he were just sleeping moments ago. He looked up at Patrick who retaliated from the now living man in front of him – if this all worked the same, there was no way he wanted to see Andy die again and especially not because of him.

 

“Patrick?” Andy rasped, eyes watering. “Patrick what happened-?”

 

“Oh Andy…” Patrick was backed against a wall, hands over his mouth in shock. It worked! It really worked! “My angel - I’m so happy to see you again, I-I thought it wouldn’t work-!”

 

“What, what’s going on? Why am I in a coffin?”

 

I took awhile, but the situation was explained to Andy and he protested at first, (“Patrick, it’s not fair that I can’t touch you! I’ll miss how you feel so much. Wh-What if I want to kiss those perfect Cupid’s bow lips?”) but decided to not argue and keep his distance.

 

The process was repeated with the other two and the explanations went on. They all adjusted in time, agreeing on gloves and cellophane and masks to touch Patrick.

 

-`~’@’~`-

 

“Hey Trick-“ Joe greeted one morning, pulling on his gloves as Patrick pulled up his mask. The two shared a small kiss buffered by the thin cloth. “-what’s for breakfast today, sweetheart?”  
  
“Waffles and pancakes - can you tell the others?”

 

“Of course.”

 

After walking in to Andy kissing Pete on the lips sweetly, Joe ushered the two down to the kitchen to see their boyfriend and eat waffles and pancakes together. Everyone gave kisses all around, telling shitty early morning jokes and trying to convince one another of an enjoyable activity for the day. There weren’t many options, but they all decided to sit together and watch movies – one that each suggested.

 

And to Patrick – this is better than having to put all three boyfriends six feet under and doing this entire movie marathon by himself; no one to compliment or kiss or joke with.


End file.
